


Unlucky

by auriadne



Category: Tales of Berseria
Genre: Anal Sex, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Hand Jobs, M/M, PWP, a smidge of angst a smidge of fluff but really its mostly smut, eiroku, only mentioned early game spoilers, rarepair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-07 04:03:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11050929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auriadne/pseuds/auriadne
Summary: In which Rokurou wants to fight Eizen out of curiosity but it’s not just about strength....Featuring a betting pool set up by Magilou on if they’re going to get together.





	Unlucky

**Author's Note:**

> OH MY RAREPAIR!  
> I was distraught by how little content there was for these two. I've shipped things for much less before.  
> ** I haven't beaten beseria yet so any inconsistencies might be from that

“Rokurou! Stand down!” Velvet shot in a warning tone in time with the sharp clang of her sword clashing against an exorcist’s staff as the demon in question ran right past her. The order fell on deaf ears. The sound of sword against sword, the metallic scent of blood, and the rush of battle overpowered every other sense in the war demon.

The battle, the eminent death of his opponent, and likely his recent loss to his brother sent him into a flurry. A dagger cracked through the Abbey malak’s white plated armor with a great force.

Eizen heard Eleanor call out behind him, “Don’t kill them!”

His eyes shifted to Velvet who was preoccupied, pinned down by the exorcist- which left him as the only person who could deal with Rokurou without being ripped to shreds.

 He broke into a run. “Rokurou! Stop.”

The dark-haired man, cast the briefest of glares over his shoulders- eyes darker than normal and narrowed with a lust for battle. “Stand back! This is my fight.”

Rokurou’s hand tightened around the hilt of his dagger ready to swing. The motion was never finished as Eizen caught his arm. “No, it’s not.” He stated, and Rokurou growled at the restraint, flipping the dagger in his hand and pointing it in a downward thrust at the earth malak.

“Shit.” Eizen cursed, jumping back reactively. He hadn’t expected Rokurou to attack _him_ , but then again, he didn’t have much experience dealing with war demons either. However, the way Rokurou was now looking at him with that glazed over stare was concerning.

He was right to be concerned, as his teammate attacked him in his fury. Eizen threw up a quick wall of rock to block the oncoming attack, but even that crumbled away after a few rough hits. “Calm. Down.” Eizen emphasized sternly.

It didn’t work because _of course_ it didn’t work. What kind of man was he to think he’d have any luck at all in this situation. This thought was proven further as his penchant for the unlucky was demonstrated with a perfectly timed armor crusher arte. It sent him stumbling backwards both caught off guard and slightly stunned, teetering on his unsteady feet in a daze.

“Magilou, to the rescue!” The witch chimed, jumping to intervene between the two men with a quickly cast spell. A water spout materialized from the intricate circle of the arte, knocking back and drenching the demon to his core.

The wind picked up, soaking the earth malak. “Magilou!” The scowl he shot the facetious witch would have made anyone else balk but not her- though looking like a wet dog with his hair dripping probably didn’t help his intimidation factor.

 “Oh, whoops.” Magilou said entirely unapologetic. His eyebrow twitched. At the very least all the cold water should have been enough to knock some sense into Rokurou.

But it wasn’t.

Because _of course_ , it was going to take more than a shock to the senses get the swordsman out of this state.

“Watch out!” Laphicet sent a bolt of energy flying towards him. Eizen ducked out of the way, and it hit Rokurou straight in the chest. It was weak enough that it didn’t hurt their friend but strong enough to stall him.

Red eyes darted towards the young malak, and Eizen put himself right between them- breaking Rokurou’s line of site. “Back off the kid, Rokurou. Fight me.” He gestured to himself with his thumb.

He wasn’t expecting how quickly the swordsman would oblige in that statement, biting out a grunt when he dodged an attack. It was easier now that Rokurou was slowed down by his dripping clothes, but this was getting to be more than just annoying.

He needed to snap out of it now.

One dagger connected, grazing his side and tearing his jacket more than anything. But there was no sign of him stopping. Eizen tugged at the gloves on his hands. “Fine. I didn’t want to hurt you, but if you’re going to be this way.”

A rock jutted from the ground just as the demon ran him. It caught his foot, making the normally agile swordsman stumble. Eizen took the opening. His fist connected with the others face.

 **Hard**.

At the same time one of the twin blades pierced the pirate’s shoulder. Eizen wasn’t sure what hurt worse- the blade stuck in his shoulder or the pulsating ache in his fist from hitting Rokurou’s thick skull (proving that he had a thick skull metaphorically, as well as physically).

Both stumbled back. Eizen pulled the bloodied blade with a grunt and tossed it to the ground. Rokurou staggered on his feet, sheathing his other blade to hold his head dearly.

When the younger man looked up to meet blue eyes, clarity crossed his face. Then it fell as he saw the blood on Eizen’s coat, the worry from Laphicet, and the rest of their party in the midst of battle in the distance.

* * *

 

Later they stopped by an inn for that night. Laphicet and Magilou were a blessing with their healing artes- though he was hesitant to phrase it that way for the latter. Eizen rolled his arm that had previously been injured to test it out. Everything felt normal. The only really casualty was his jacket, which now donned two more rips than it used to.

It was late in the afternoon, Velvet was busy cooking, showing Laphicet and Eleanor how to make a quiche. Magilou was doing _whatever Magilou did_ around town, and Rokurou was notably absent, as was a bottle of his rum.

After today’s events, he understood why.

Rokurou wasn’t really the brooding type- being a demon would do that. Though even if he wasn’t, Eizen had a hard time picturing the other moping. He was too carefree and determined for that- more likely to be the guy who punches things 100,000 times to make himself feel better.

He found the swordsman on the outskirts of town after following the trail of dead monsters. _So he was right about the training thing._ It led him to an overlook where Rokurou was sitting, watching the creatures below on the plateau.

“Hey.” The swordsman called as he detected Eizen approaching. He waved the hand that held the bottle of liquor.

He stopped right next to the other man. “What are you doing out here?”

“Drinking.” Rokurou took a swig from the bottle he pilfered. Eizen decided to let it slide. He, too, had been in the same position before. Accidently hurting his friends… or worse. The Reaper’s Curse reared its head in the worst ways so he could empathize.

“I can see that.” Rokurou offered the bottle to him. He took a long drink. The familiar dark liquid burned his throat slightly.

The demon sighed, scratching his head. He peered over his shoulder to look at the malak. “I apologized to the others, but not to you. Sorry for earlier. I got carried away.”

Eizen took a seat on the ground next to him, leaning his arm on his knee. “I understand this comes with the territory.” _Rokurou was a war demon, after all._ “But you need to remember we’re your allies. I won’t let you hurt the others so don’t make me have to hurt you.”

“Hardly.” Rokurou scoffed. He rubbed the side of his face. “But man, you have one hell of a punch. My ears are still ringing.”

A small semblance of a grin tinted his mouth. “Centuries of practice will do that.”

“I hope I didn’t do too much damage.”

“You may owe me a new coat, but you’re nothing I can’t handle.”

Rokurou’s eyes sharpened at the comment. It wasn’t meant to be a jibe at his battle prowess, but Eizen realized too late the mistake he’d made.

“I’ve never fought a greater earth malak before.” Eizen didn’t like this train of thought, and it ended exactly where he thought it would. Rokurou turned to face him completely, excited with the smoldering flames of battle beginning to light up his eyes. “Eizen, I want you to fight me using your full strength.”

“No.” Eizen got up to leave. He wasn’t to indulge this at all. It was dangerous for both of them, not to mention having the potential to seriously jeopardize their mission.

Rokurou clambered to his feet, getting in his way. “How am I supposed to beat Shigure if I can’t beat a greater malak on my own?”

“I’m not some litmus test for your abilities.”

“Eizen, do this for me-“

The malak frowned. “Listen to me. I know how this goes and I’m not going to indulge this sense of competition you have between us and risk your demon side obsessing over killing me like with your brother.” Rokurou pouted. His mouth opened for what Eizen perceived as protest. He cut him off with a swift hand motion. “Stop.”

Eizen began to walk away, but Rokurou didn’t stop. Instead, the demon tried to egg him on, calling out behind him, “Prove that you’re stronger than me.”

This was a game that Eizen was far too old to play. Rokurou simmered under the repeated declines. His body was already tense, as if ready for a fight- one that he would not get if Eizen had any say.

Eizen scoffered. “I don’t need to prove anything to you.” Rokurou grumbled out a complaint just as the blonde left.

The swordsman didn’t come back before nightfall. The girls and Laphicet were about to turn in at the inn when Eleanor piped up, noticing they were one person short of their little party. “Rokurou should be back by now.”

“Oh Eleanor, what an exorcist you are- worried about a demon?” Magilou chided.

“I-I’m not!” She stuttered.

Velvet appeared to be annoyed by the whole thing. “Enough. I’ll go drag him back here, if I have to.”

Eizen looked between the four and sighed. He thought if he left, Rokurou would get over it. Seems like Rokurou wasn’t the _getting over it_ type. “That’s not necessary. I feel like this is partially my fault. I’ll deal with it.”

This piqued Magilou’s interest. He could see it in the subtle way her eyes sharpened and the sly yet bemused expression that came over her. “Is he in a mood?”

“You could say that.”

She mulled over the reply before her flippant demeanor returned, and she patted the Velvet and Eleanor on the back. “Well, we ladies should be getting our beauty sleep, and let the boys deal with boy problems.”

“I can go too.” Laphicet chimed in.

“No, you won’t. You need to get a full night’s sleep.” Velvet said. She was more like a mother hen than a demon. Eizen nearly smiled. They were an odd bunch; but he had a hard time not liking them.

* * *

 

Their absent teammate was apparently too busy fighting a code red demon out on the plateau by himself to bother coming back to the town. Rokurou was going all out against a bird-like demon. The flying creature was not the ideal opponent given his close combat style and short reach.

Eizen jumped down to their level. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

No response.

Rokurou was too absorbed in the fight to notice him intruding on it. This had the potential to be worse than anticipated if got into that crazed state again.

The worst outcome in his experience was usually the most likely, and this was no different.

It was obvious in Rokurou’s fighting style that something was off. Normally he was reckless, but he wasn’t this reckless- Eizen watched as he took a talon to the chest just to get in close enough to land a hit.

Eizen had a feeling he’d regret this.

He intervened, suddenly garnering the attention of the swordsman- all intense eyes and anger boiling down to a singular focus that was directed right at the malak.

“Eizen! Don’t interfere again.” He bit in a scathing almost demonic growl.

“Sorry. Can’t do that when you’re bleeding out like that.” The scratches across his chest darkened the fabric of his clothes. It didn’t bother the demon at all, only fueling the rage inside him. That fury was something Eizen didn’t know how to quell. He’d punch him again if he wasn’t worried about giving the poor guy head trauma. No, this time he needed Rokurou to snap out of it on his own accord.

Their attention switched back to the code red demon when a fireball came between them both. They jumped back. The flares singed the bottom of his long coat, and Rokurou was back at it again- focused on his monster opponent. In mere minutes the beast had fallen. The second the battle was won, Rokurou’s attention shifted back to him- that desire he had to fight the malak overtaking his sensibilities.

Rokurou attacked him with that same look in his eye he held earlier in the day. “Rokurou. I don’t want to fight you.” Eizen insisted as he narrowly blocked the blades on the metal of his wristlet. It clanged and sparked, and Eizen gritted his teeth as he skidded back on the ground from the impact.

“Why?!” He snarled.

“I don’t make a habit of fighting my friends unnecessarily. Least of all injured ones-“

Rokurou paused. Eizen smirked. He caught him. In a quick movement, he disarmed one of his blades. At the same time, the swordsman tangled in the front of his shirt- pulling so that they both fell.

Eizen felt the press of sharp, cold metal against his throat. He blinked, a dark sneer crossing his face. “What? Do you really want to kill me Rokurou?”

The demon’s eyes focused for a moment, softening as a furrow formed between his brows, revealing his conflict between his more human side and his demon thirst for blood and battle. “No, I-“ Rokurou faltered giving Eizen the time to act.

The next thing Eizen knew was that he’s leaning over the swordsman. His hands holding him firmly to the ground. The loss of the blade against his throat let his breath fall in deep pants.

Eizen blinked.

Something different flashed in Rokurou’s eyes. They dilated, and his breaths sharpened. The bloodlust brought upon by his demonhood was subdued and replaced with something else.

The sudden change made Eizen far too aware of his position- his legs and arms pinning the swordsman down- or namely how he was straddling his waist. It hadn’t been something he’d thought about in the heat of the moment but now-

The malak grunted in surprise when Rokurou broke from his grasp- creating enough inertia to flip their position. His back hit the ground with a painful thud and a gritted, “Damn.”

The red glowed bright against the dark markings that coiled up the side of the swordsman’s face. The ever-present reminder that Rokurou was not human. All he saw was that face, glowing red, against the stars of the night sky. There was probably something poetic in it, not that it mattered.

The sudden vulnerability was concerning, but he was more thrown off by the change in Rokurou. He’d seen that look before- those dark eyes, far too focused and far too intimate. Felt this tension before- full of unspoken desires- engulfing like a thick fog, dense enough to be cut with a knife.

One of the hands on his shoulder that held to the ground, shifted to graze his neck. It was a rough movement, but the situation made Eizen hyperaware of everything. Every glance, every movement, every touch. This was going down a direction he had not anticipated when he came out here to retrieve the younger man, and there was no doubt Rokurou was aware of his heightened pulse and the breath he was holding.

It wasn’t until the demon leaned closer, gaze flickering to linger on his mouth, did the full realization spark in the earth malak’s mind. It’s a few moments more when he felt the warm breath of the younger man against his face did he finally decide to do something about it.

Rokurou was thrown off him in an instant- catapulted feet away by precisely timed and precariously placed earth arte. He yelped and hit the ground away from the malak.

Eizen let out the breath he’d been holding, bringing his hand to his heated face. Suddenly the many layers of his clothing seemed a poor choice, as he tugged at the stifling material.

That look in Rokurou’s eyes- that was a whole different kind of lust and directed at him nonetheless.

…

Regardless of what happened, Eizen knew what he had to do. He cast a basic first aid spell and lugged the injured Rokurou back to town, where Eleanor and Velvet waited up for them- full of questions.

* * *

 

They were at sea again, travelling to another port. This should have been Eizen’s time to relax- he was a man made for the ocean. But no, he was far too distracted to enjoy the familiarity of the ship and crew.

 _Damn Rokurou,_ with his terrible almost kiss in the residual heat of battle. It had been stuck on Eizen’s mind for the past few days. That look in his eyes- he hadn’t felt that in years- decades even.

Maybe he missed it.

Maybe he didn’t mind it coming specifically from the Rangetsu swordsman.

It made him want- or need- to claw at the heat that slithered under his skin and coursed through his veins.

Eizen tried to wipe the thought from his mind because it couldn’t happen. It shouldn’t happen. It was dangerous. Not to mention, he wasn’t so young that the pull of these base desires should have such an effect on him- clouding his mind and plaguing his thoughts with more questions and what-if’s.

_Yet they did._

They colored their every interaction. It didn’t help that he was reminded of it every time Rokurou walked onto main deck, in the brief moments when they’d make eye contact or the small moments of casual conversation because neither of them had spoken much since that night.

* * *

 

It came to a head when they landed at port. Laphicet voiced what everyone in the group had noticed aboard the ship but failed to comment on. “What’s wrong with Rokurou?”

There was a shared knowing glance between Eleanor and Velvet. This had to be a new turn for the Reaper’s Curse- if that’s even what this was about. Eizen frowned.

Magilou lurked behind them with a growing smirk curling at her lips. It was more than a little disconcerting how much amusement she got out of things like this- particularly since it was at his own expense. The witch’s hands coiled around Velvet’s and Eleanor’s arms, worming between them to lean down to Laphicet’s level.

“Oh Laphi, Laphi.” She teased with her characteristic theatrical flair. “What use is there in trying to understand the inclinations of demons. They’re fueled by desires and darkness.”

The side eye she threw Velvet earned her a scowl.

The black-haired woman muttered under her breath. “You’re one to talk.”

“What? Me?!” Magilou laughed in her feigned shock. “The Great Magilou- the most beautiful, talented, powerful-“

“We’re not going through this again.” Velvet interrupted.

Magilou pouted. “Fine. Fine. I was just going to say that leaving a demon of war with a sense of unresolved conflict might create some _friction_ within our little menagerie, no?”

The way the witch narrowed her eyes at the blonde malak made him uneasy. The attention of Magilou was not something Eizen relished. It usually meant something bad or at the very least annoying. This time it was the latter.

“Relief from those twisted, _heated_ desires might be the only way to get our dear Rokurou back to his normal boorish self.” Eizen maintained a blank face even when Magilou winked at him.

 _She knew_.

The young malak’s head tilted to the side.  “I don’t think I understand.”

Eizen cut in. “Because Magilou doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

“I don’t, _do I_?” The witch challenged with a grin that would have been downright sinister on anyone else. The frown on Eizen’s face deepened. The prodding from Magilou caught the other women’s attention too.

Eleanor was on the cusp of asking a question he probably didn’t want to answer. Eizen brushed it aside. “I’ll talk to him.

The exorcist muttered something under her breath, and Magilou looked far too please, humming.  “Men are such simple creatures.”

* * *

 

Rokurou beat him to the punch, cornering him in the bar and dragging him back to their shared room in the inn with a hurried, “We need to talk.”

Eizen leaned against the wall, arms crossed, waiting for Rokurou to breach the subject. The demon was hesitating- thinking too much- something uncharacteristic for the man. So Eizen picked up the slack. “Is this about how you almost killed me or how you almost kissed me?”

A slight flush rose to Rokurou’s face, as he coughed awkwardly. The swordsman muttered a begrudging, “I’m going to need a drink to get through this.”

“You’re welcome to it, if it means we can resolve this.”

He took Eizen up on the offer, picking a whiskey from the pirate’s stash, sitting on the edge of one of the beds. At length, he answered Eizen’s question, thumbing the neck of the glass bottle before setting it down. “It’s both. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

 Eizen kept his _same_ to himself, and Rokurou continued.

He stared at his hands, like they were something foreign or strange. His voice was lower, more careful and measured with the words he gave. “The feeling of your hands on me. Your body on top of mine and under me- its burned into my senses.” Rokurou groaned, carding a hand through his long bangs, as he got up to pace around the room. The distress this was causing was clear in the wild way Rokurou gestured with his words. “I don’t know what to do with this pent-up energy. I’ve never felt it this intensely when not in battle. I feel like I’m going crazy.”

There was a desperation in his voice. Rokurou truly didn’t know what was happening to him. He turned on heel to face the blonde, more determined and sure. “Eizen, this is the only way I can think to fix this. You’ve gotta do something for me.”

“What?”

“Fight me or fuck me.”

Eizen blinked, dumbfounded and failing to grab anything from his mind that could make a coherent response. He blinked again. _Did he really just say that?_ He must have misheard. A confused, repeated, “What?” escaped him.

“I said fight me or fuck me.”

 _Shit, he heard right._ He groaned. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am. One hundred percent.” Rokurou nodded in earnest. Somehow the earnesty made it worse for the malak. “The tension. The lust for battle or something else- I can’t tell- its eating at me. I can feel it in my stomach coiling like a hungry snake. I don’t want to go berserk and hurt any of you guys again. I want- I need to satiate this desire I have that’s… linked to you.”

Eizen almost laughed.

_What kind of ultimatum was that?_

One of those he would staunchly refuse, while the other piqued his interest more than he cared to admit.

“I can’t. I shouldn’t-“ He pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezed shut. Distance was better, safer.  Friends was one thing, but any more than that- he was tired of losing people he’d formed such close bonds to. Rokurou was a special matter in that regard- like a firework brash, bright, and fated to fizzle out quickly. Eizen didn’t know how he felt about getting too entangled in that. In the long run it was destined, no, **assured** to end badly; but in the moment, there was a part of him that wanted to give in and ignore the walls he put up to make his long life easier.

The trepidation on his face must have concerned the swordsman because next thing he knew Rokurou was there- enveloping his space, holding tightly onto his arms, and saying things Eizen didn’t hear.

One thing drew him back into reality.

“Eizen.” The needy inflection in the sound of his name was too much. His attention fixated on the man before him.

The longing was clear his face, in those hungry eyes that were lit aflame. Even more clear was how he was holding back, with Eizen held carefully at arm’s length, teeth ground together to make sure he didn’t say _too much_ \- likely for Eizen’s own sake, he realized later.

Eizen licked his lips subconsciously, not really aware of the unfair affect it would have. Rokurou visibly tensed. His name fell from the swordsman’s mouth again in a more strained tone, and _damn_ if that didn’t stir him up inside. The breath that caught in his throat was broken and ragged by the arousal was slowly being teased out.

_Fuck it._

Even thousand-year-old malaks wavered on occasion, and this was the last nail in the coffin.

They were on a nigh impossible mission. For the second time, in decades he connected with an odd group of people, and for the first time this century, he found someone he wanted to be with.

Eizen threw all this second guessing to the wind and answered with kiss, shirking off Rokurou’s grasp to pull the man closer by the collar of his shirt. Rokurou choked a breath as the mouth crushed against his own before he met the malak with equal fervor.

It was sharp and hard. All teeth and tongue, and exactly what they both craved. Lips plied roughly against his own, sloppy and insistent. The same as the busy hands on his body, unfastening the buttons of his vest and untucking his shirt- hungry for the touch of flushed skin- until they uncovered their goal. 

Rokurou had the rough hands he’d expect from a swordsman. There was nothing gentle or soft about this at all, with calloused hands leaving searing touches up his stomach and gripping his hips too harshly to pull their bodies flush together.

Eizen groaned against Rokurou’s mouth from the pressure, pushing himself as close as possible to completely devour the other in the kiss. Licking at his lips with teeth biting and pulling- nipping and teasing yet still holding back. He pulled away for a moment, tugging the demons lower lip with his teeth. There was a twinkle in his eye that only this kind of thirst allowed.

Rokurou saw it, as he opened his eyes when they separated. Hot pants fell between them. A mixture of saliva coated his lips in a wet sheen. Eizen grinned, slumping against the wall and wiping his own mouth on his sleeve.

Rokurou laughed breathily. “Damn, Eizen.”

They may have separated briefly, but Rokurou’s hands were still insistent upon him- feeling up every last inch he could get his hands. Eizen’s blue eyes fixed on Rokurou’s, seeing the flickering of that lust he saw the other night. It fed that hunger within him and made him feel a little too self-satisfied.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” The blonde chided. A smirk teased at his lips. His hand grazed the others jaw, thumb brushing his bottom lip.

Rokurou’s eyes widened briefly. He pulled his hands away, leaving a coldness where they’d connected to his skin. “Not to backtrack, but are you sure? I’ve trained to relieve pent up aggression before. It might work for this too.”

“More training?” Eizen grinned at the thought. Rokurou not a man of half measures that’s for sure. His bit lips and strewn open shirt were enough evidence of that.

“Is it funny?”

He toyed with the edge of Rokurou’s top. It slid off his shoulder. “It won’t be necessary.” It took Rokurou a moment to put the pieces together, but when he did the realization sparkled in his eyes.

Rokurou tugged him forward in the same manner he had done before. His mouth nipped lightly at his neck and ear, lingering for a moment to whisper in a heady tone, “I haven’t felt this kind of intensity since I was human.”

_Well, this was going to be exciting._

* * *

 

Eizen found out the hard way that Rokurou’s get up was… complicated. The layers of his precisely tied outer robes, no, even his shirt and pants were complicated _. For fucks sake, he was a pirate._ He could tie like 50 different knots; this shouldn’t be so hard.

Rokurou was laughing at him. With anyone else, it would have irritated him, but this was Rokurou. They were friends and comrades first… and now he supposed _lovers_? 

Eizen’s eyes flitted upward from where he sat on the edge of the bed. He yanked the dark-haired man forward by the band of his pants, Rokurou’s knees hitting the bed as he pulled him onto his lap.

There was no laughing now. A heady expression flitted across the swordsman’s face as his weight settled onto Eizen’s lap- oppressive, hot, strong- Rokurou was a powerful guy after all. He leaned down to meet Eizen in a searing kiss, dragging the malak’s hands to his chest. He’d stripped off his top moments before, so his hands hit bare, flushed skin.

“Gloves. Off.” Rokurou groaned against his mouth. He obliged tossing them aside, as well as the rest of his accoutrements. The want was back full force from the demon, more aggressive this time. It didn’t take just his coarse voice to be able to tell that. His movements were rougher and more explicit in their purpose.

The demon’s hips ground down, lips quirking up at the sound of the older malak letting out a rasped, “Rokurou,” as his nails dug into the top of the swordsman’s thigh.

Now this vulnerability was the kind he relished- the honesty of bodies experiencing someone intimately. For Rokurou the complete disregard for any pretense was refreshing. The sounds- those sharp breathes- hitching at the right touches and the right friction- and the deeper groans that rumbled through his bones- it all made Eizen want more.

He got it when he palmed the younger man’s growing erection through the bunched layers of his pants. His hips jutted to the sensation, making Eizen’s hand curl further around his hardness. Rokurou bit down in his moan, drawing blood from the malak’s lips.

His tongue lapped at up the blood that stained the blonde’s mouth. It seemed to set him off, as the demon pulled away, frenzied and frustrated by the barriers of fabric between them. “Fuck! I need to get-“ He struggled with the ties of his pants. “Out of this. Right. Now.”

Eizen chuckled. The laughter was swallowed just as Rokurou kicked off his pants, wasting no time to pounce on him. The bed creaked and bowed as Eizen’s back hit the mattress. Rokurou leaning over him with a toothy grin that maybe he kind of liked.

This was a familiar position, looking up at Rokurou with his long hair failing around his face and into those ravenous, dark eyes.

Only this time there would be no almosts. Eizen would make sure of it.

He ensured it by pulling Rokurou’s waist to his own. The friction of his cock grinding down against his own was delectable in every way. The swordsman made a muffled sound, unable to keep it together.

“Don’t restrain yourself. Let it out.” Eizen muttered. His lips grazing skin at each word, licking at the lines of his collar bone, skin salty from the pricklings of sweat. The spot he bit red was definitely going to leave a mark.

And when Eizen’s hand snuck past the band of Rokurou’s undergarments to wrap around flushed, hard flesh, the swordsman lost it. His hips jerked, dick sliding further into the malak’s hand. Eizen assisted the motion, fingers curling around the curve of his cock, stroking him firmly. With each tug, he paid careful attention to drag the rough pad of his finger along the tip. His pinched it slightly, teasing at the edge of the head with dull nails, in a motion that had the younger man sinking his teeth into his neck.

Rokurou keened, head falling to Eizen’s shoulder, breath running ragged and sultry against his neck. He gasped loudly with each ministration, rutting his hips in time with Eizen’s movements. Precum smeared the tip, sliding warm against his hand and dampening the fabric. One of Rokurou’s hands fisted in his hair, his mouth moving steal away Eizen’s breath.

He melted into it. The warmth, the pressure, the overwhelming presence of the swordsman- wet, stifling, and wanting in his hand and against his body. Eizen felt it too, the tightness in his pants, the heat coiling in his stomach, the pleasant haze of arousal that made ever sound, touch, and breath so _electrifying_. It wasn’t unlike battle with the kind of intensity that flowed here. The push and pull. The roughness, the excitement, the vigor. Eizen understood how Rokurou had construed his bloodlust with more carnal desires.

It coursed through him too, found in beading sweat and panting breaths, leaving him hard and wanting, yet nowhere near as badly as Rokurou.

Rokurou was undone. He wasn’t lying about needing this as he was broken down to his base desires and brought close to his brink so soon. Breaths quickened as his he glazed over in desire. Eizen wonder what would happen if he just-

His wrist flicked, tightening his grip on the upstroke. Rokurou’s hand pulled back on his hair, making both men groan as he spilled over in his hand. Eizen let out a short laugh, dragging his hand up creating a damp line along the other’s abs.

“Don’t laugh.” Rokurou panted in his own defense. His face was still burrowed in the crook of his neck. “Since becoming a demon, my senses are more intense.”

Eizen smirked, not missing a beat to push the other man off balance when he was still dazed. Their position flipped. Sitting on top of the swordsman, there was a newfound glint in his eye. “Oh, don’t worry, I know that.”

“You’re terrible.” Rokurou gave a grin that was all teeth, saying that it was, in fact, the exact opposite.

_That was the fun part after all._

The thought was punctuating by a roll of his hips, as if to prove exactly how terrible he was, that left Rokurou keening even post orgasm.

_Rokurou made it too easy._

_Ah._ Eizen held back a moan at the insistent hands pawing at the strained fabric of his underclothes that pressed insistently against the other man’s taut stomach. The strained noises form the blonde were enough motivation for Rokurou to get handsy.

The first touch had the malak inhaling sharply through gritted teeth. The second had Rokurou’s fingers grazing the flushed head of his cock, taking his time to tease the older man. The contact had Eizen leaning to press his forehead to Rokurou’s. And the third, it strained what little composure he had left. The third was a fist around his cock that wracked a shudder through his body. Eizen’s hand slipped to cover Rokurou’s around himself.

Eizen groaned, mouth brushing over the swordsman’s as Rokurou stroked him unceremoniously- fast and rough just like the man underneath him. He hadn’t realized quite how starved he was for this until this happened. But now left in the heat of the moment, he didn’t want it to stop, but at the same time he wanted it to _escalate._

Eizen stopped the other’s hand, letting out a hitched breath as the pleasure subsided, trying to get back some composure. Eizen imagined he looked quite the state. A deep red flush crawling from his chest to paint his checks hot and pink. All sighs, disheveled hair, and bitten lips. He was the picture of strained, voice coming out rough and low. “Are you satisfied? Because if I recall, you asked me to fuck you.”

Rokurou squirmed under him. The hardness pressing against the malak’s body was evidence enough of his s renewed interest, and that _no he wasn’t satisfied._ Each movement Rokurou made only heightened the problem. The restraint of his body- pinned between the malak’s thighs and under his steady weight- was a double-edged sword.

The mewl that escaped the younger’s mouth had him quirking a brow. “Shut up, Eizen.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You don’t need to that look says-“ His words disintegrated into incomprehensible nonsense. His hips bucked against the malak’s own, and Eizen moaned. “Shit! Ah, I- I meant it. I mean it now. I want you to fuck me.”

 _Straightforward as alway_ s. He liked that about Rokurou.

* * *

 

Rokurou was intense. Intense in the heat that surrounded Eizen’s gel slicked fingers that pried and stretched him open, and more intense with the snap of the demon’s hips edging himself further down on the fingers inside him- mewling at the pressure and precisely hooked fingers but also letting his complaints be known.

“It’s not enough.” Rokurou groaned. “Stop half assing this and give me your cock.” This demanding, needy Rokurou made Eizen gulp in anticipation, but it wasn’t the only part of him that was left anticipating.

Rokurou’s complaining was silenced when fingers were replaced with something much more satisfying. Eizen sighed into it, sinking into the deep heat until Rokurou’s body engulfed him completely.

Eizen let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, glancing at the man beneath him. Rokurou’s expression sharpened. The fire in his eyes blared. The markings on his face flashed bright crimson. “Rokurou,” The man’s name made him shudder. Eizen felt it too, moaning lightly, feeling every movement through his cock. “You good?”

“More than that.” A low growl reverberated deep with Rokurou’s chest. His legs hooked around the blonde’s waist, strong and forceful, pushing himself off only to shove himself deeper. “Ei-Eizen.” Eizen’s name was a broken mantra, when he finally angled to hit _that_ spot. The swordsman clawed against Eizen’s pale skin- leaving angry red stripes down his back.

The harshness, devouring heat took over the malak’s senses. Sweat beaded from his forehead, sticking long bangs to his skin as his hips snapped at a rhythmic pace. It picked up intensity only when the dark-haired man egged him on, thrusting himself down onto Eizen’s cock, meeting him more than halfway each time.

 _He’d never been with someone so… enthusiastic._ Eizen bet if he let him the other would have been content to ride him to completion. The picture of Rokurou on top of him made his dick twitch, as he focused on the real Rokurou who was moving underneath him.

His hand tightened around the swordsman’s bouncing dick, slick with cum, stroking it with each thrust. Rokurou’s arm was thrown around his neck, pulling him into a bruising kiss, teeth clanging and tearing against his own.

Rokurou lost it first, as he came for the second time, strings of cum splashing hot against his stomach. His teeth bit at Eizen’s collar, marking him red.

“Fuck!” The pain from the teeth that dug into his flesh was overshadowed by the tightness that pulsated around his dick, leaving Eizen speechless and breathless as he dipped his head back.

In that moment, he followed.

It was pure electricity. The demon’s sensitivity connected to him making everything more intense, maddening with the pleasure that rushed his body and tainted everything else in a haze.

“C’mon Eizen.” Rokurou urged, running his hand through Eizen’s hair in a sentimental gesture. Eizen didn’t need any more urging as he was sent over the edge, coming inside the other man. His hands tore at the demon’s shoulder with a strangled cry.

Rokurou watched him curiously with a clarity he lacked before. His fingers curled at the nape of Eizen’s neck rubbing the spot tenderly, as the malak’s eyes were squeezed shut still shaking from his orgasm, breaths falling in shallow pants.

The remnants of his orgasm stayed- a residual tingling in his nerves even for minutes afterwards. Only after it dissipated did he dare pull away, flopping over on the bed- a sweaty spent mess. Rokurou was looking at him head in hand with an expression he was more likely to see on Magilou.

Eizen ventured a question, voice still hoarse. “Do you feel better?”

Every part of Rokurou’s face- his silly grin and wide eyes- said yes. “Hell yes! But you know I still wouldn’t mind fighting you.”

“Don’t you think you’ve had you’ve had enough of me for one day?”

Rokurou winked. “Nah. I could handle you again.”

 _Demons._ He scoffed internally.

Eizen covered up the smile on his face with his hand.

 

* * *

 

The next morning.

Magilou, Velvet, and Eleanor whispered outside the inn, until the two men rejoined their party. A silence fell, and Eizen suddenly felt scrutinized under the gaze of the three women.

Magilou was the first to break, pointing at the two excitedly. “HA! I knew it!”

Velvet’s eyes narrowed and she scoffed, “Damn.”

Eizen stepped back with a surprised, “What?”

“Camaraderie! The intensity of battle! Demonic desires! How could these things possibly culminate?”

“Ah!” Realization hit Rokurou.

“Really, hickeys already? I thought it would take longer…” Eleanor face palmed with a sigh.

Eizen slapped a hand against the spot on his neck. Rokurou just laughed loudly, wearing them proudly.

Magilou twirled around. “Magilou never loses a bet, so fork over that gald!”


End file.
